I got spaghetti

What did you get?

I got roses, too. Twenty-four of them. They smell divine. (Sometimes roses aren't at all fragrant until you get right up close to them -- but these smell yummy from 3 feet away. Score.)

The real gift was that Darling Husband came home from work, kissed the baby, clasped his hands together and said, "Now, what can I make you for dinner tonight, honey?"

I. Love. That. Man.

Of course in my self-defeatist way, I tried to martyr the situation and muttered, "Oh, you don't have to make me dinner... I was planning on..." but then I smacked myself in the head and realized what a big idiot mistake it would be to pass up this chance, so I finished with, "How about pasta?" and a big, grateful smile.

He made us a lovely meal: spaghetti and garlic toast. Carb-i-liscious. AJ had his tantrum for an appetizer, Time Out as sorbet, then strawberries, then cold spaghetti. But hey, he ate. And I got points for having made creme brulee the day before -- DH's favorite dessert. Our V-days may not be as sappy and starry-eyed as they once were, but the fact we both took the time to do these small things for each other means there is real-live love in our house, bouncing in and among the exhaustion and stress. So hooray for Love!

Time Out is working like a charm, by the way. I have no idea why we didn't implement this sooner, although I guess he really wasn't crying-to-get-his-way until now. But the minute I say in my Stern-Mommy voice, "AJ, do you need to go to Time Out?" he stops whatever he's doing and looks at me all deer-in-the-headlights-esque. It is good. I have Power! I am once again In Control!

The Special Box is working like a charm as well. Let me just tell you: Pick-Up Stix! The kid LOVES them. Take 'em out, put 'em in. Take 'em out, put 'em in. Hours of entertainment for a nineteen-month-old.